Ending
by korel.c
Summary: It sounds like an epilogue, a happy ever after, they've taken so long to get to this point they forgot what it was like to bring them there. Seiner, M, het, slash.


"Stop it, Seifer," Hayner insists. He bats at Seifer ineffectually, Hayner's hand clenched around a stylus that is dangerously close to poking out Seifer's eye - if Seifer cared for such things. Instead he lays feather-kisses at the base of Hayner's neck and shoulder, moves up to the juncture of his chin and neck. Grins when Hayner shifts and finally pushes the tablet away from himself. The swivel chair squeaks as Hayner spins it around to face his boyfriend, a grimace on his face.

"Stop it," Hayner says, but even to himself he admits that the protest is half-pretend. "I've got an assignment due and I can't miss the deadline...again...thanks to you."

"But spending time with me is so rare," Seifer purrs, and wraps himself around his boyfriend, dropping a hand lower until it slips under Hayner's shirt and then up his chest. Hayner makes a muffled, embarrassed noise and instantly blushes, ruffling his hands through his own soft hair. To Seifer Hayner's hair feels like chocobos, or at least the ones he's petted at the zoo; Hayner's expression when Seifer's hands join his in Hayner's hair is utterly hilarious.

"Would you stop that?" Hayner says, more than a little peeved, and pushes Seifer away from him. "I'm drawing, and I have to finish this storyboard ASAP, and you're - you're distracting me!" The hitch in his voice on the word 'distraction' makes Seifer just want to jump him further, but he's right - if Hayner fails this year again because of him, Seifer could very well be drawn into the pissy, sulky, silent world that is Being-Ignored-By-Hayner and he doesn't want that, definitely not. It might be the year that his bullying, touching-him-without-excuse finally failed to work and by Kingdom Hearts, he doesn't want that.

"Fine," he says, and makes sure Hayner hears the pout in his voice even if Hayner is determinedly not looking at him. "I'll just be...over there. Doodling. Scribbling. Practicing my scripts."

"You do that," Hayner says, and his chair creaks as he adjusts his weight to swing it back to the tablet. Back to his ovals, circles, and funny rectangles and lines.

Seifer sulks under the pile of scripts his lecturer has laid down on him, and promptly starts reading out loud, mostly for Hayner's annoyance, because it is really very, very amusing.

"His shirt rode high until it didn't cover his groin, and then he was fisting his cock and moving over it in long, steady strokes, his hand slick with lubricant from Jason's top-drawer. The thought that Jason could come down here at any time and interrupt him, innocent face red with shame, was utterly thrilling and -"

"Shut up, Seifer," Hayner said without looking back. "You're distracting me."

"Oh, am I?" Seifer said, and continued, taking off his coat and dropping it to the floor. He knew Hayner would register the soft sound of leather on the wood, and smirked as Hayner squirmed in his chair.

" - then maybe Jason would drop to his knees and ask him if it was alright to suck on him, to take him into his mouth and -"

"-That's it!" Hayner said, and dropped his stylus on the table with a clatter.

He whirled, his eyes burning with need and want. The chair creaked twice as dangerously as Hayner shifted off it, pushed his weight squarely to the balls of his feet and pounced, sprawling across Seifer and kissing him furiously, taking off his clothing and Seifer's with furious, rough movements.

"My," Seifer said as he broke the kiss for a moment by turning his head to the side, "You seem eager."

"Shut up and kiss me," Hayner said, and pressed his erection against the other boy's thigh. "Mmf."

Seifer sucked on Hayner's lower lip for a second and broke away, rolling them both off the couch and onto the floor. Hayner tasted like sea salt ice cream, as usual; kissing any of the three of the 'bad kids' from Twilight Town would always taste the same.

"I thought you had an assignment to do?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, fuck the assignment," Hayner said, and undid Seifer's belt.

"There wasn't any porn in the scripts you were given, was there." Hayner's tone is completely dry, even as the both of them are soaked in sweat, staring up at the ceiling, dangerously close and even more dangerously far apart.

Seifer knows this, as he knows Hayner's tells: the way his eyes crinkle as they narrow, his lips are a flat-line, and his fists are open and unclenched. A spot near his hip twitches, but not in the way they do when Seifer ghosts his fingers across Hayner's pelvic bone. A muscle in Hayner's right thigh - one of them, he is so delightfully compact - flexes and unflexes and Seifer is unbelievably wary -

"Uh, no," Seifer says. "I adapted."

"Yeah, you did," Hayner says, and rolls out of the blankets, gloriously naked, almost grecian in his modesty. Which is to say, none at all. He pads softly on bare feet to the door, while Seifer watches his ass unrepentantly. "Going to draw now."

"Don't turn in porn like you did last semester!" Seifer calls after him, which only makes Hayner shut the door on their bedroom a lot more firmly than he would otherwise have. The line turns into a little giggle, which Seifer clamps down on.

Rubbing his eyes with his arm, Seifer rolls onto his side and thinks, fairly contentedly, about what has gotten them so far.

Twilight Town is a train ride two and a half hours away. Two and a half hours ago (and four years back), Seifer and Hayner are having something of a standoff. It's a quiet one, something that is familiar only because of its unfamiliarity; usually Hayner insults Seifer loudly and is promptly challenged to a Struggle match, which he will lose miserably and sulk for hours after Seifer gloats over his head. Only this one is mapped with words and curt gestures, and Seifer will watch the face he's memorized through patches of bruises (because Hayner does get the odd hit in). He will watch the face he's memorized change from the bright, bright (entertaining) fury of his earlier, younger days to something dead and cold and completely over and he realises he can't have that, he can't have Hayner thinking that they are over because they are not, they are unequivocably, unutterably not.

That's when he grabs Hayner's face and kisses him, brutally, furiously, and only softens when Hayner's gaze does, his hands reaching up to pull Seifer closer, and stands on his tiptoes so he can actually meet Seifer's height half-way.

"It's not over," Seifer gasps, as they break from the kiss, Hayner's lips already beginning to swell. "It's never over, between you and I."

"What-" Hayner says, but doesn't even pretend to not want to return the affection. "Why this, why now?"

"You're entertaining," Seifer says, his voice trying to match the tone he's kept for Hayner for so long, so long. "That's the answer to all of your questions."

Hayner huffs and pushes himself away from Seifer and looks out at the sunset for a heart-sinking moment. "I'm entertaining?"

"The most," Seifer says. He almost goes into detail about how Pence just walks away from Rai and doesn't bruise well, and how Olette looked under Fuu's fingers when she finally doesn't resist, and decides that's probably topic for another conversation, another day, and that day will likely be never if he wants Hayner, and he does.

Somehow all that darkness comes out in the intermittent time and now they're here and they're over everything and it's the ideal fairy-tale ending. Hayner draws and animates and he makes cartoons that are heartbreaking and breath-catching in their simplicity and originality, and Seifer acts. He likes acting. It's entertaining.

Some days he writes porno scripts just for the fun of it, to make Hayner squirm and grind against his chair, then maybe, if Seifer's lucky and good enough, to jump him.

He's been getting lucky lately. Or maybe he's just getting good enough. When he reads out loud to Olette, to test the waters so to speak, she keeps panting and sweating and secretly under the table using her soft fingers to press record on the miniature voice recorder he knows she keeps for interviews with celebrities.

"You should publish," she says to him. "I think you'd get loads of munny."

"I don't need the munny," he says when she does that, "I have Hayner and that's all the wealth I'll need."

She gives him a Look because the six of them have history and he likes that, how they're an island of history in a shifting mass of ever-changing relationships and twisted humanity and maybe that's how they were destined to be.

"Right. And that's why your coat is getting small and tattered."

"I like it," he says, defensive. "It has sentimental value."

"You know Squall again," she says, and fixes him with another Look. "Even though he likes being called Leon now. I think you and Hayner should match clothing, it's not like he -" frustrated, exasperated, "-doesn't own five pairs of the exact same clothing either."

It's embarrassing and he will never admit it to Hayner let alone to Fuu or Rai - but he goes clothes shopping with Olette, to find some accessories that will match with Hayner's, because although Hayner has fashion sense, he never bloody uses it. He has to, he draws characters that are unbelievably good-looking and have taste and yet somehow always look like Seifer.

The first time Hayner's lecturer is introduced to Seifer she looks Seifer up and down and Seifer felt a little dissected (he went home and wrote fourteen different porno scripts and read them all to Olette in one sitting until she said she felt like a little puddle of lust in her chair) - mainly because when Seifer goes through Hayner's assignments they are almost all drawings of Seifer in various positions and portraits. Though, the cartoons he does are of a moogle fighting against a Heartless, always the same moogle, and always the same Heartless.

Obviously Seifer knows what Hayner is referring to, and on bad days it affects him. Other days, he doesn't really care.


End file.
